


your sinner in secret

by pendules



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Artist!Ronan, Breaking and Entering, Crack, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - The Raven King, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Recreational Drug Use, Street Racing, teenagers doing Stupid Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Adam can't believe he's spending his last months of high school being Ronan Lynch's grudging accomplice in crime/juvenile pranks/various other misdemeanours.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	your sinner in secret

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in October and just decided to finish it, because again, unposted fic makes me sad. This is not TRK-compliant and doesn't really have much to do with canon at all. I'm still not entirely sure _what_ this is, but Ronan and Adam doing reckless, vaguely illegal shit is just Very Important to me.
> 
> Inspired by a host of things, including a tumblr post about Ronan being a Vine star, a picture of a mural about saving the bees that I saw and immediately thought "Ronan would totally deface this while Adam reluctantly acts as his lookout", and the iconic pop song [_Run Away With Me_ by Carly Rae Jepsen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeccAtqd5K8) (which is the ~official soundtrack of this fic).

Adam can't believe he's spending his last months of high school being Ronan Lynch's grudging accomplice in crime/juvenile pranks/various other misdemeanours.

He tells himself he's just going along to keep Ronan from doing anything stupid enough to actually get arrested.

But they end up doing a lot of Stupid Shit anyway. Most of it's documented on Ronan's Vine. Adam regularly prays to a god he doesn't believe in that no one on the Harvard admissions board is ever going to witness any of this.

"We're not doing that," he says, for possibly the fiftieth time this month.

Ronan raises an eyebrow at him. "That's what you _always_ say."

"Yeah, but this is different."

"You always say that too."

"Yeah, but — we're not breaking into the fucking _police impound lot_ , Ronan."

"Why not?"

"Because it's _illegal_. I'm not going to jail." Ronan shouldn't be looking at him like what he's saying is completely irrational.

"No one will know."

"So, you're not doing it for the Vine?" He can't believe how many times he's uttered those words totally unironically this year.

"Technically, I'm doing it for Kavinsky. But no one will be able to prove anything. Vines aren't admissible in court."

"I'm sure that isn't actual Virginia state law."

"Okay, Counselor Parrish." It's not remotely the worst thing Ronan's ever called him, but it makes him feel weird. Like they're destined to be on opposite sides. Of the law, of the proverbial line between productive members of society and the assholes who want to burn society to the ground. Between sinners and saints. But whatever — as long as it keeps his sorry ass out of jail.

Maybe it's time to resort to desperate measures. 

"I'll tell Gansey." 

This actually earns a surprised look. Not Telling Gansey is the fundamental rule this entire operation is built on.

"Tell him _what_ exactly?" Ronan asks, like a challenge.

"I'll tell him about the time we broke into the headmaster's office."

" _Which_ time?" Ronan says, smirking. They both know _exactly_ which time he's thinking about.

"Either. _Both_." The first time was to retrieve sensitive confiscated material; the second time was a dare from Kavinsky that ended…unexpectedly (maybe he should send him a thank you card, or flowers).

"You _wouldn't_ ," he says, with an infuriatingly smug smile.

"Why not?"

"Because you were there too." Oh, like Adam doesn't remember. Like he doesn't constantly think about that night. He never would've predicted that he'd apparently have a kink for breaking the law. Or maybe it's just breaking the law with one Ronan fucking Lynch.

"Yes, I was _there_ to make sure you didn't get expelled."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Adam hates that fucking look, the look that says _You're enjoying this as much as I am_. He hates that it's probably entirely true.

*

The first time involves a mural about Saving the Bees that Ronan sees and instantly takes offense with. 

Ronan picks him up from work and drives them to the part of town right in between the disgustingly rich and the dirt-poor. The weird suburban hippies who drive hybrids and feed their kids gluten-free snacks and who are scarily cheery all the time. Kill him before he becomes one of them. (Maybe he and Ronan _do_ have that in common.)

"What the hell are we doing here?" he hisses at him as Ronan gets out the car. 

He responds by shoving a can of spray paint at him.

"Make yourself useful, Parrish."

Adam refuses, just leans against a wall, arms crossed, making sure the neighborhood watch doesn't spot them and call the cops.

He records the stupid video though. The video of Ronan drawing a dick over the bee's head and creatively replacing 'Save' with another four letter word.

*

If he gets more involved in the actual plan as time goes by, it's only because Ronan Lynch has the imagination of a twelve-year-old boy.

And then the Great Prank War with K starts and shit gets real.

*

Ronan doesn't actually tell him what they're here for.

Adam assumes it's a dream-object that's potentially dangerous, especially to anyone who doesn't know what they're dealing with.

But all he does is pull what looks like a slim book with a dark cover out of the bottom desk drawer and puts it in his jacket pocket.

Adam doesn't ask.

They don't find anything incriminating in the office. But they set up a video of the Murder Squash song to autoplay at full volume when he logs in.

*

The list of Dares includes breaking into private property, vandalism, defacing public property, stealing iconic fixtures from well-known local landmarks.

"We're not stealing an ATM. Have you _seen_ Breaking Bad?"

"Point," Ronan agrees.

*

They sneak into the Aglionby pool after midnight.

He gives him his most scandalised look as Ronan starts taking his clothes off and then he averts his eyes when a bit _too much_ comes off, feeling his cheeks heat up. He waits for Ronan to do a cannonball into the deep end and then sits at the edge of the pool, jeans rolled up, feet in the water, recording him doing laps and making Smug Asshole faces at the camera. 

"You should get in," he says after a while, one eyebrow cocked. It's not a question. It feels like a _real_ dare. Like something more dangerous than a silly case of breaking-and-entering. He always knows the exact tone to use to get Adam to react the way he wants him to: easy and confident, almost seductive, but with an edge of darkness to it.

Adam's genuinely thinking about it when they hear a metal door scrape open, the dull sound of footsteps, and then the beam of a flashlight appears on the wall in the distance.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Ronan says, scrambling out of the pool and grabbing his clothes before they're fleeing for their lives, not looking back until they're out of the building and cutting the shortest makeshift route through campus, trampling flower beds and splashing through fountains and slipping through the gaps between buildings, clothes getting caught in bushes.

He's pretty sure Ronan actually starts laughing maniacally when the guards eventually lose pace and start yelling for them to stop instead, doubled-over and wheezing.

"Why are we doing this?" Adam says, lying on his back in the grass, out of breath, when they've gotten far enough away and jumped a fence or two. They were never going to catch them, judging from the size of their guts. Adam's never been more thankful for the existence of donuts.

"What?"

"What are you actually gaining from this?" Adam props himself up on his elbows to look across at Ronan who's lying on his side, like he's never been more relaxed.

"Vine followers. Also, beating K at his own game."

"That's not _all_ , though."

"I don't know. It's just — we don't have a lot of time left."

"What do you —"

"I mean, we're graduating soon," he says, quietly serious. It's unnerving, seeing Ronan like this, knowing he's scared of something too.

Adam doesn't know what to do besides keep looking at him. So, he doesn't stop.

*

"Why are we are at Kavinsky's place in the middle of the night, Ronan?" Adam asks for probably the tenth time since he stopped the car out front.

"Just help me get this window open, Parrish."

Ronan ducks through the window and lands, crouched, on the kitchen floor, and Adam follows. 

He straightens to see Ronan rifling through cabinets. 

"What if we get caught?" he asks, because he feels like he's obligated to.

"No one's here."

"How do you know?"

"The internet, Parrish," he says, giving him an impatient look before going back to his task.

"What the hell are we looking for?" he says in an urgent whisper. 

"Drugs," he says, like it's obvious.

"What the f—" He takes a deep breath, reining in his outrage, because he knows it's not helpful in their current situation. He's pretty sure he can't talk Ronan out of this right now, so the best course of action is to just let it happen and then _get the fuck out of here_ as quickly as they possibly can. "Why would it be _here_?"

"Fuck if I know. It's _Kavinsky_."

Adam tilts his head, considering that, before nodding, conceding the point.

"I'll check the living room," he says with a sigh.

Ronan joins him after his search of the kitchen proves futile and they promptly find a huge stash of weed under a couch cushion.

Ronan just grins and says, " _Jackpot._ He's going to be so fucking pissed," before they leave the way they came in, like they were never there.

Ronan takes them to the Barns and they sit on the roof as he rolls a joint and they pass it back and forth, recording shaky, out-of-focus videos of them laughing at nothing in particular before uploading them, and Adam can't remember the last time he felt this free and light.

*

"We're not stealing a car."

"Technically, it's _borrowing_."

"Ronan —"

"Come on, Parrish. You agreed."

"Yeah, but this is —" It feels different from the other times. Graffiti and breaking into places to mess with people is one thing. But this is actually grand larceny. 

"I need you," Ronan says, suddenly intense and earnest, and _what?_ Adam's maybe been wondering why he dragged him into this in the first place; he thought it was probably just for his own amusement or so they would be equally culpable if Gansey ever actually did find out. He never thought it was because Ronan actually needed his help.

"Okay," Adam says quietly.

They decide to take one of their douche classmate's Mustang from the school parking lot.

Ronan jimmies the door open using a technique he probably found on Youtube (he could probably dream up the keys but it was too much hassle for the short time they have); Adam hotwires the engine as efficiently as possible. Adam expects Ronan to climb in the driver's seat but he shakes his head and goes around to ride shotgun. Adam closes the door, wonders if he should put his seatbelt on. But what's one more law broken tonight, really?

He drives out onto the road to find the spot Kavinsky had indicated.

*

As soon as the light turns green, he starts regretting it.

But Kavinsky's stupid face in the other car and Ronan yelling incoherent instructions/encouragement next to him is enough to drown it out.

He's going to _die_. He's going to die in a stolen car next to Ronan Lynch. Or the police are going to catch them and he's going to say goodbye to Harvard and hello to a prison cell. 

Ronan's face is wild and unreservedly happy, though.

It's all he needs, to floor it, to get an edge on Kavinsky just when he fucks up the shift.

When they cross the line, Adam's heart is beating faster than it ever has in his life. Ronan's laughing deliriously. He reaches across to clap him on the back while he tries to catch his breath and when the sheer terror passes, there's nothing left but bliss.

*

The second time in the headmaster's office, they pour marbles all over the floor and get to work sealing everything on his desk in plastic wrap.

"What did you come here for the last time?" Adam asks as casually as possible. He's just making conversation, really. Actually setting up pranks can get quite tedious after some time.

"Huh?"

"Last time. You came to take something back." 

"Oh, that was —"

"Are you _blushing_? Oh my god."

"Don't point the light in my fucking face, Jesus."

"Sorry. So, you're never going to tell me?"

"Can. You. Just. Drop. It," Ronan says through his teeth.

"I thought we were closer than that, Lynch," Adam teases.

"Okay, I'll show you if you tell me why _you're_ here," he says. Another challenge. _Of course._ Nothing gained without giving something up in return. Especially when it comes to the truth. He's used to this by now.

"What?" he says, feigning ignorance anyway.

"Why do you always go along with this?"

" _Because._ "

"Because what?"

"Because — because you drive me _crazy_ ," he bursts out, his voice raw and strained. It almost feels good to say it, though. Like he can breathe better now without this heavy truth sitting in his chest. "Because no matter how hard I try, I can't say no to you." Adam's glad Ronan can't see his face in the dark right now, flashlight pointed at the ground.

Ronan doesn't say anything for a moment but then he's grabbing his free hand and putting something into it.

It's a small leather-bound book open to a marked page.

Adam aims the light down at it. And then back at Ronan.

He immediately gets what this is: His answer. _Truth for truth._

"Oh my god, you were _drawing my hands_? That's the lamest thing I've ever seen."

Ronan visibly cringes. "Thanks, Parrish."

"Oh, _God_ , I'm sorry. I didn't — Well, okay, maybe I _did_ mean it a little." Adam bursts into a fit of giggles and then Ronan's laughing too.

"Shhh," Adam says when he's contained himself somewhat. "We're still trespassing. We have to be quiet."

"Make me." 

Adam rolls his eyes.

"Does that really work for you?"

"What?"

"You have the finesse of a twelve-year-old boy."

The jab seems to blow right past him, though. "So, you're _not_ going to make me?" he asks, low and tempting, making something warm stir inside him.

Adam feels Ronan's knee brush his own as he comes closer.

He sighs audibly.

He carefully rests the flashlight on the desk behind them. He wraps his arm around Ronan's waist and pushes him back against the sturdy wooden surface, their hips pressed flush together. He reaches up to touch Ronan's mouth with his thumb before leaning in. It takes some trying in the dark to fit them together properly but then Ronan's cupping his jaw and catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Adam moans kind of obscenely and Ronan laughs again. His hands are on his ass now and Adam has to pull away before something really embarrassing happens. Getting caught breaking into school grounds at 2am is bad enough when you don't have an obvious hard-on.

They drive back to St. Agnes after they complete their mission for the night and spend an hour just making out some more in Ronan's car.

*

Ronan turns to him, and reiterates, "Gansey Never Knows About This," before scaling the fence, flashlight between his teeth.

Adam sighs and follows him. The leg of his jeans gets caught at the top and when he hears the deafening rip as he tries to pull it free, he closes his eyes and silently contemplates the pros and cons of murder (Pro: might make it to age twenty in one piece; Con: no more kissing).

It's not hard to find the car. 

"So, how are we getting it out?" Adam asks.

"What?" Ronan says, looking at him like he's crazy.

"The _car_ ," Adam says, like he's talking to a five-year-old. "We can't just drive it out of here."

"We're not driving it anywhere. We broke _in_. There's nothing on the list about breaking _out_." Ronan grins, like he thinks he's some kind of criminal mastermind.

Adam rolls his eyes but records the damn video, of Ronan sitting on the hood and flipping the camera off, sitting in the passenger seat with his feet on the dash.

"Okay, get in."

"What?" Adam says, lowering the phone.

"Get in the backseat, Parrish," he says impatiently.

"Why?"

"We have to leave him a present."

Adam's mouth opens and then closes. And opens again.

"We're not _having sex in Kavinsky's car in a police impound lot_ , Ronan."

"Why not?"

"Are you fucking insane?"

"Okay, fine. Plan B."

He gets a can of spray paint out of his jacket and leaves a huge smiley face on the hood.

And then they get the fuck out of dodge.

*

He's totally not thinking about it. Ronan's crazy suggestion has nothing to do with how much he's sweating and how hard the blood is pumping in his veins. It's just — adrenaline. He's not turned-on by this in any way whatsoever.

Ronan stops the car in the Monmouth parking lot and then they both attack each other's mouths without preamble. Their noses smash together and their teeth get in the way and then it's all tongue and breath and bruised lips. Adam digs his fingers into Ronan's hips and Ronan pulls on his hair in a pleasant way. Ronan's t-shirt is halfway off and Adam's about to crawl into his lap when Ronan pulls away.

Adam lets go of his shirt with a tiny noise of frustration.

"We should get in the back," Ronan suggests.

"Your bedroom is literally like a hundred yards away." What is _with_ Ronan and backseats, anyway? He can see the appeal, he guesses, but not now. Not this time.

"So? Gansey's probably awake. He'll want to know where we've been."

"We can always tell him —"

"What?"

"No, not about — I mean, we could tell him about _this_. Then he wouldn't ask anymore." Given the choice between admitting to a felony or gay sex, he's going with the latter every time.

"You're a _genius_. Did you know that?"

"I could stand to hear it more often," Adam says, leaning over to kiss him again.

*

Ronan's still asleep when Adam reaches across him and grabs the book off his nightstand.

It's not just drawings of various parts of his anatomy — there are parts of his dreamscape; things instantly recognisable as belonging to Cabeswater; night horrors; a mask covered in blood; a horned red devil. No wonder it got confiscated. There's also random snippets of poetry here and there. Adam's too absorbed in it to realise Ronan's awake until he reaches out and takes it from him.

"Dangerous place," he says, setting it down again.

"I can handle it." He's handled the rest of it. Ronan's crazy whims and flares of anger and recklessness. He's shared in the danger with him, but maybe he wasn't just doing it _for_ Ronan after all. Maybe it's always been the other way around, too.

"I know you can. That's not what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid you won't _want_ to anymore."

"Hey, you're worth it," he tells him sincerely. "You're worth the bruises and the ripped jeans and the almost heart attacks. And the other stuff too. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Ronan kisses his forehead and smiles at him. It's a different smile — not his camera-smile or his fuck-the-world smile or the cocky one he uses to tell Adam they both already know he's going along with it — and it transforms him, into something softer and more human, just a boy with too much love in his heart finally willing to trust that it will be returned.


End file.
